


not all those who wander are lost

by BecomeMyObsession



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Bonfires, F/M, Missing home, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 08:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6975964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecomeMyObsession/pseuds/BecomeMyObsession
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"You decided to have the bonfire on the beach in front of my house?’ Chloe threw her hands up to block the grinning man standing in the entrance way to her house, she was refusing him entry because he was covered in soot...</em>
</p><p>  <em>He held up his lighter in triumph, before stuffing it into his ruined trouser pockets. ‘Well, if I’d asked you’d have said no.’ He shrugged a shoulder, as though it was the most normal thing in the world to be having a bonfire at nine in the evening, in front of her house."</em> </p><p>If you've ever been homesick, or felt exiled from all the things and people that once defined you, you'll know how important welcoming words and friendly smiles can be. - Stephen King.</p>
            </blockquote>





	not all those who wander are lost

**Author's Note:**

> God damnit. I promised myself I'd leave it a few days so I stop clogging up the fic post page, but apparently I just can't help myself. Once I get an idea in my head it just won't go away until I write it.
> 
> I am supposed to be writing a three-fic companion piece story, but then this happened instead. I'm feeling a little homesick at the moment, and my writing tends to reflect my moods. Next fic should pop me back on track - hopefully!
> 
> Little word of warning: This fic has a few British-isms in it. Lucifer has a rant in the episode 'Sweet Kicks' where he goes on about the difference between trousers/pants. I feel him on a spiritual level and have in the past been on many a similar rant before - to my boyfriend who thinks he's hilarious confusing me with the words. Blah. Oh I also googled the difference between smores in the UK and the US - and it's very different - so appreciate my googling or you'd have been confused. I used wiki, so I hope it's right.
> 
> Okay, so enjoy.

“I’m having a bonfire.”

Chloe holstered her gun, yanking the suspect’s arms behind his back and roughly handcuffing him. There was no need to be gentle, he hadn’t been to his boss who hadn’t give him a promotion, “ _move”_. She marched him over to her police car with Lucifer trailing behind, his hands in his pockets. Not until she had shoved the guy in the car, and made sure he was buckled in, did she turn to Lucifer. Raising an eyebrow, she folded her arms over her chest. “I’m sorry, you’re what?”

He looked at her blankly for a second, eyes flickering over the man in the car, before shrugging. “I’ve decided I want a bonfire.”

“Just now-?” She cut herself off, deciding not to question his motives, he never made much sense to her – even less now she knew (well accepted, he hadn’t technically hidden it from her) the truth. “Never mind.” She made to move, but stopped, frowning, “It’s the middle of summer. It’s too hot for a bonfire.” She opened the door to her car, watching as Lucifer rounded the car to the other side and opened his own, “where are you going to find anything to burn? The leaves haven’t started falling yet-”

“-I’ll figure something out.” He waved a hand, ducking down to get in the car, before popping up again with an unidentifiable look on his face, “are you coming?”

She checked her gun holster, and reached over to slam the back door shut, not caring much about what their suspect had heard. “Yes, give me a second and-”

“No, I mean to the bonfire.”

She stared at him over the top of the car, regarding him slowly as his dark eyes beseechingly searched her face. Frowning a second, she wondered where this had come from all of a sudden, but she figured now was not the best time to implore his decisions with their perp able to hear every word. Instead she shrugged one shoulder, “sure”, before dropping herself into the driver’s seat and starting the car, beaming at him as he climbed into the car after her, “though, only if I get smores.”

He clapped his hands together excitedly, “fantastic,” and grinned at her as he stretched his long legs out in front of him, as far as they could go anyway. He had shoved his seat as far back as possible, which wasn’t very far considering the divider, and the interior wasn’t exactly the most spacious.

They drove for a few minutes in silence, before he turned abruptly to face her, looking – for lack of a better word – adorably confounded. She spared a look in his direction, her head remaining focused on the road as she glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. She may have – eventually – accepted his whole  _I’m the Devil_  spiel (kind of hard to deny when she’d seen it first hand as he’d…  _changed_ , while throwing a perp against a wall), but his staring was still unnerving. It would be for anyone who had someone staring unblinkingly at them... she didn’t think that would ever change, “what?”

There was a beat of silence.

“What’s a smore?”

\----

“You decided to have the bonfire on the  _beach_  in  _front_  of my  _house_?” Chloe threw her hands up to block the grinning man standing in the entrance way to her house, she was refusing him entry because he was covered in soot. What on  _earth_  he had done to get the fire going was beyond her, and she wasn’t asking. “You couldn’t have  _asked_ me first?”

He held up his lighter in triumph, before stuffing it into his ruined trouser pockets. “Well, if I’d asked you’d have said  _no_.” He shrugged a shoulder, as though it was the most normal thing in the world to be having a bonfire at nine in the evening, in front of her  _house_. “Now,  _come_   _on_ , we’re wasting valuable bonfire time,” he drawled out the words, somehow making them sound extremely tempting despite how irritated she was with him.

“In front of my  _house_ , Lucifer,  _really_?!” This time when she threw her hands up them slapped her thighs as she dropped them.

He looked at her, for all the world looking bewildered at her outrage, before he rolled his eyes. “ _Yes_ , Detective, in front of your house. You’ve said that already, a few times in fact.” He reached for her hand, but she took a step back. He sighed, resigned, “look, if I say I’m sorry will you forgive me?” He didn’t wait for her to answer, instead launching into what he probably thought was a reasonable explanation, “but there’s a private beach here, and it makes it so much easier. I thought you’d be happy that I’m not doing anything illegal-” he trailed off, raising an eyebrow purposely, looking very sure of himself for a man who’d gone and started a fire on a cops doorstep.

Chloe folded her arms and glared at him. “Trespassing is illegal,” she grumbled, watching the small plume of smoke rise up from behind his shoulder, suspiciously, “who else do you have down there?”

“Maze.”

She looked at him.

“That’s all. I swear.” He placed his hands over his heart. “I give you my word I did not bring any hookers.”

She hummed, dropping her arms back to her sides and regarding his  _very_ sooty state while trying to hide her amusement. He did look a little funny…

As if sensing her thawing rage he took a minute step forwards and beamed at her, eyes all open and honest, for all of a second, before the expression dropped and he pulled a bag from nowhere and hung it in front of her face. “I brought marshmallows.”

She looked at the bag for a second, then at him, then back at the bag, and couldn’t help cracking a tiny smile at him, “ _seriously_?”

He pushed them at her, “here you go, now what do we do with them?” He glanced at them a little bafflingly, before raising an eyebrow as he turned back to her. She didn’t take them off him.

Chloe sighed, raising her eyes skyward for a second and sending a small message to the God she now knew actually existed.  _Of all the unsuspecting cops out there, you lumbered me with him? Really? I already have a child…_ She jumped as thunder clapped in the sky, placing a hand over her heart until it calmed down and glanced up expecting to see clouds and threats of rain – shame to have to call off this little bonfire  _so soon_  - yet the skies were clear.

Lucifer cocked an eyebrow, looking bemused as he followed her eye line, “spooky.”

“Creep.” She swatted a hand at his chest, and he grinned dancing back a step to avoid the hit. “I’ll go fetch the chocolate and crackers… go, and I’ll join you in a second.”

“But-”

She shook her head, “you’re not coming in here in that state. You’ll trail soot and muck all over my recently cleaned floors,” he stared at her, not moving, “go, shoo. I’ll be down soon.” She waved him off with her hands and was rewarded with raised eyebrows but, thankfully, a nod.

“Don’t be  _too_  long Detective, I’ll be thinking you’ve run off.”

She laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” and turned to go hunt for the crackers. Missing Lucifer’s slip of his normally  _too_  composed expression as he stared after her forlornly as she disappeared into the house.

\----

By the time she had found the graham crackers in the back of a cupboard somewhere and grabbed the chocolate from the fridge, the temperature had broken, and had dropped significantly enough that she wished she’d brought a jacket down with her. Too late to back track now; she jogged down the last few steps onto the beach and headed the few feet in the bonfires direction. “Told you I wouldn’t be long,” she huffed as she slowed her jog to a walk. In truth she’d been about ten minutes, giving a quick call to Dan to wish a goodnight to Trixie before she went to bed, knowing her ex let her stay up  _way_  later then she was supposed to.

Lucifer didn’t answer her, but he was sat on a rock beside the fire staring into the flames. She watched them reflect in his eyes for a second, entranced by the way the light danced off him, before looking away. She let him have a moment – or two - before slowly coming to a stop next to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Hey,” she said softly. “Everything okay?”

He blinked, as if coming out of a trance, and reached up to grasp her hand. His voice equally soft as he replied, still staring into the flames, “I’m okay… just-” he paused, eyes flicking to her for a millisecond that she wasn’t sure if she’d imagined it, “even the Devil gets a little homesick from time to time.”

She took a second to digest that titbit of information. “Why not go back?” She questioned, her heart already plummeting at the thought of never seeing him again. She could wake up tomorrow and he’d be gone; no word, no warning, and she couldn’t exactly put out a search warrant for someone who’d  _actually_  disappeared off the earthly plane. She plopped down on the sand next to him and placed her food load next to her. They were packaged up, so safe from invading sand. She thought for a second, head making connections and now it made sense why he wanted a bonfire. She didn’t know much about Hell, he’d declined to give her too much information –  _unneeded_ , as he’d said,  _not as though you’d ever be going there_  – but she was pretty sure fire was a given. She looked around, for the first time noticing how alone they were. “Where’s your Demon bartender?”

He turned to look at her. “She’s gone for a walk, somewhere-” the light from the fire was illuminating one half of his face and casting the other side of his face into shadow; making him look, well for lack of a better word, very devilish, “probably gone to find her latest  _victim_.” She ignored that last statement, instead crossing her legs like she used too at school, placing her hands in her lap, and turned to face him as she waited patiently for an answer. She could feel the heat from here, the slight chill in the air dissipating and replaced by the tell-tale sign of bonfire smoke and crackling as the wood burned. He watched her for a second, his eyes seemingly drinking in every feature on her face, before shaking his head, “I don’t miss the screaming, and the obligation to – well to do my job – and I definitely don’t miss the ash. It rains ash there… a lot, besides,” he brightened up, nudging her shoulder, jolting her out of her thoughts as she tried to picture it in her mind, “what would you do without me here? All your little cities crimes would go punished.”

She laughed, a little shakily, “I did my job before you Lucifer; I can do it again.”

He turned back to the flames. “So can I. Doesn’t mean I want to.”

Unconsciously leaning into him to provide comfort, she relaxed when he placed an arm around her. “Neither do I.” she reassured. “Besides before you came along everyone hated me.”

“Ah, yes, well that’s all sorted now, lucky you.”

Shrugging a shoulder, she mirrored his position and looked at the flames. The bright light burning her eyes a little, causing her to squint. “They still don’t like me much.”

“They’re delusional. What’s not to like?” He turned his head to watch her thinking as she stared at the bonfire.

She looked at him, smiling softly. “Could say the same about you.”

He cracked a small smile and hummed, “I’m sure many would disagree with you there.”

“Then they’re delusional too-” she paused, tilting her head a little, “-sometimes quite literally.”

He snorted, the sudden sound ripping through the still night, causing her to jump a little but quickly she settled back into his side. “Well, they deserved it.” He voice rumbled as he spoke.

She nodded, “yeah, they did,” she murmured quietly, mostly to herself. Her eyes held no lies, face set in resolution as she stared at him. His eyes shifted away from her and landed on the chocolate and crackers by her side, and he grinned. She frowned at him in confusion at the sudden turn around, until he re-grabbed his marshmallow packet and shook them in her face.

“Now, show me how these  _smores_  work.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, this piece was super fluffy. But my next fics are not, by far, so I suppose enjoy the fluff while it's here. 
> 
> My favourite part to write was the middle section. I don't know why but the idea of writing God into an actual story (I find the whole thing super interesting despite not being religious myself) would be preposterous. But then Supernatural went ahead and did it... so anything is possible, right? 
> 
> I happen to love bonfires. The smell of the distinct smoke as it invades your senses, the change in density to the air, watching the fire crackle and burn, the little embers flickering around in the air... it reminds me of home. We have a lot of bonfires - just in the autumn, not in the summer. Always remember to check for hedgehogs.
> 
> Anyway, sorry for clogging up the feed (I have way too much free time on my hands and they don't like to be idle). If you're not sick of me, drop me a lil note to let me know what you think of bonfires (and the fic, obviously, ha ha). Thank you!


End file.
